life on the funny farm

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Here's the story, of a man named ....

Fred.

And what a terrific guy is Fred. Smart as they come. Tall and broad and handsome, great Dad, wonderful husband, best Trauma Surgeon/Intensivist/General Surgeon/Surgical Residency Program Director you'll ever meet. Should have won Patient-Saint-of-the-Year Award several times over and yet he's never even been nominated. Because although what he yearns for most in life is quiet order, he instead married me and by doing so has taken on my ensuing chaotic horde of six kids and a couple dozen critters. Who knew back in '88 what uttering those two little words "I do" would actually DO to his life? Because he values his privacy, I won't say much about his personality/what makes him tick, but I can tell you a little about his life: he was raised in South Jersey (in pretty much the same house all his childhood) as the sixth of seven kids. He loved Little League (for which his Mom was coach) and running all over the Pine Barrens and cranberry bogs with his friends and brothers. Some of his pre-college graduation jobs included babysitting, construction work, cleaning the grease traps at good ol' Mickey D's, pushing carts in the Shop-Rite parking lot, movie theatre usher/projectionist/manager, MAB Paint salesman, and more. Today he enjoys reading (biographies and books on quantum physics are among his favorites), woodworking, and trying to catch up on a few of his favorite shows or old movies. His favorite things to do with the kids are teaching them fix-it projects around the house, bowling, taking them out to the movies, or playing ball in the yard.

I realize that most men like him, with his brilliant career and the respect of his colleagues and community, would have a pretty little trophy wife, two kids, maybe a small hypoallergenic dog, and a house in the 'burbs with neatly trimmed shrubs and an ornamental tree. But instead of that trophy wife, he got his Tomboy wife with a smudge of dirt on her cheek, jeans with holes in the knees, a t-shirt and her "barn gloves" on, with strands of hair falling out of her ponytail and into her eyes. However, if you looked closely at the eyes under the hair, you would see they were brimming with love and admiration for the big guy. Because he's everything to her. And he's given her her whole world. And she knows theirs truly is, an Endless Love.....

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I'm Anne Kimball, and I'm Mom to six kids, three by birth, and three by adoption. I mention that only because I write a bit about adoption and attachment issues.
I also live on a small farm, so I often write about the ins and outs of my duties as zookeeper.
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